Finding Fukue

Chapter 2

Fukue's p.o.v

"Mama, Mama wake up! One-san and I are gonna be late!" 

I groaned and gently pushed my three-year old son off my body, instead of pouncing on me he resorted to tugging relentlessly on my arm. 

"I'm up, I'm up! Honey, please go to the kitchen and I'll give you your breakfast. Have you packed your lunch already?"

He nodded and bounded out of the room, yelling after his sister who just rushed past the hallway in a flurry of motion. 

Drat, I must have slept in. I had a strange dream last night, although the last few tendrils of memory slipped from my brain and I decided to just ignore it. Attempting to tame my heavily-knotted hair at least a little, I rushed to the kitchen and prepared onigiri for the kids. 

"Oka-san, I'm off!" My daughter yelled from the doorway, hurriedly tugging on her shoe and bouncing on her other foot. 

"Ok, have fun at school and make sure your brother doesn't get into any trouble, ok?" I told her, pushing the onigiri into her hands to eat on the way to school. 

"Mama, you're so meeeaaannnn, you know I would never get in troub-" the boy was cut off when I put the onigiri I made for him in his mouth, smiling softly. 

"Oh of course. Off you go now, or you'll be late." 

My daughter nodded took her brother's arm and dragged him out of the house, his wails of protest following and fading into the distance as they ran to school. 

I sighed and huffed a few stray strands of hair tickling my face out of the way. 

It must be nice, being able to have a stable education and plenty of friends at school, surrounded by people who cared for you and accepted you for being yourself. A luxury I never had when I went to school. 

Being bullied mercilessly, left out of group activities, always being the last picked for teams, and eventually dropping out was all school had to offer for me. Life wasn't exactly any easier or better once I dropped out either. especially the countless lectures from my parents about not being able to stand up for myself. Getting a job was also a pain, because no one wanted to hire a helpless kid who dropped out of school and was desperate for money to support herself after her family refused to do so. 

I eventually got a job at the local convenience store, although I wasn't paid much, it was enough for me to get by. I eventually got a better job in the business marketing industry that paid me well, and I moved out once I turned eighteen. Until I started a family of my own, I realised I never really had a family that actually cared about me.

Well, except Jessica. 

She was my anchor, my lighthouse in the dark sea of my life trying to pull me under and rip the air from my lungs, the one thing keeping me going. Jessica, to me, was family. She cared for me and played with me as her own sister, protecting me from those bullies in school, giving me a voice when I had thought I lost mine. 

Everything went downhill the moment she left Japan. We still kept in touch by writing letters to each other, but the bullying started up again. Once my shield was lowered, they took their chance and attacked relentlessly. I was too exhausted to even protest, so that caused me to drop out so I wouldn't have to deal with them anymore. My parents told me it was all my fault I got bullied and did nothing to stop it, anyway. I eventually stopped writing the letters, trying desperately to manage the chaos of everything else.  

At least now, I was happy. Or, that's what I think... I have a new family that I love very much, and they love me. I'm perfectly happy and healthy. It's just that I couldn't shake the fact that I had aa strange, Jessica-shaped hollow place in my heart.

I picked up my phone to shoot my husband a text that I would be going to work, assuming he would only read it hours later. He was barely home, working long hours away and not bothering to check his phone. 

I dragged a brush through my  hurricane of hair, and picked out a suit for the day. Checking my watch for the umpteenth time today, I got into the car and drove to work, blasting the radio. 

I was humming along to the lyrics of "Stay with me" by Miki Matsubara when i got hit by a wave of nostalgia. Back when we finished school for the day, Jessica and I would go over to our treehouse at her place and sing along with this song. We had memorised all the lyrics because we sang it so many times over and over. I don't remember the first time I heard it, but it was one of my favourite songs ever since. 

That day passed slowly, every minute that passed felt like an hour. My brain was swarmed with the thoughts of Jessica, eventually leading up to the daunting thoughts that she could have forgotten me. I denied the thought over and over, but what if it was true? We lost contact 30 years ago, so who knows what's happened to her since then. Although, is was possible that she could also have a good job and a loving family of her own now, just like me. But did she still think about me? Even a little?

I just hoped she was happy and healthy with her new life. I wondered if she missed me as much as I missed her...